


A Million Miles Away

by 360loverpenguin



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: "Run away with me"., Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Varian's near nineteen here just so you know, Which sounds strange since the show already involves royalty, but Varian is a reluctant prince in this, forced into the role he just isn't cut out for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25199170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/360loverpenguin/pseuds/360loverpenguin
Summary: Varian took in a deep breath of the air that was far from stuffy, leaning into the rail of the balcony he had stepped on to. His head pounded as he stood there, looking out at the palace grounds below.The hot tears poured down his face, shaking his chest with the silent sobs as they did. His ribs pressed hard against the carved stone. He couldn’t do this. Live this lie that he had convinced himself he was cut out for. He couldn’t pretend he was what the people wanted - needed -, couldn’t force himself to become what his father wanted. He wanted freedom. From the guards, the servants, from the pressure he couldn’t bear any longer.He rested for a moment, revelling in the still night air surrounding him, gently rustling his still styled hair. He felt his heart rate slow as he stood there, his sobs softening into streams of tears which he didn’t care to control. Varian watched as they dripped onto his hands, gripping the railing as if it were a lifeline.
Relationships: Cassandra/Varian (Disney: Tangled)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	A Million Miles Away

**Author's Note:**

> So I've always loved royalty stories, but one thing that's always bothered me is that the 'reluctant ruler' always ends up taking the throne. Well... what if they just weren't right for the role, and couldn't take the pressure? That's how this story was born.
> 
> Varian is a prince here, but his heart isn't in it, and Cass is his guard who's only been given the role because he fought for her. Hope you enjoy!

Varian slowly let out a breath he had kept locked in his chest far too long. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing all his attention on the slow drawl of his breaths. One after the other, in a rhythmic sort of way. He let the cool darkness relax him for a moment. Here, he could almost pretend he was alone. Like things were normal. Free.

A thud sounded from the room he stood in all too quickly, bringing him back to where he stood surrounded by servants. He glanced over to where one of them was busy picking up a tray of pins they had knocked over in their hasty preparations. In all honesty, Varian didn’t know why they were working so fervently, after all, the ball wouldn’t be for hours, right?

He was drawn from his thoughts once more by the soft clearing of a throat, the man standing to his right motioning for him to lift his arm to the side. Varian did as he was told, sighing as he felt the quick motions of the needle putting the finishing pieces onto his outfit. His gaze flicked over to the window, and not for the first time he wished someone would open it.

The room felt suffocatingly hot, and him having stood in place for the batter part of an hour did nothing to satiate that. The dull sunlight of late afternoon lazily flickering through the sparse tops of some rich pine trees. These were the times when he envied the guards and servants. True, they may not have had as much freedom as most, but it was still leagues more than him. They were free to walk the grounds unattended whenever they pleased, to chase any dream that called out to them without a thought back.

The girl who had knocked over the tray then stepped in front of him, obscuring his view of the outside world entirely. She began working on his hair, no doubt trying to tame the unruly mess he knew it to be. He watched as she pulled out a few sizes of combs, continuing her musings.

He vaguely heard the snap of the thread being broken, signalling the end of the incessant work on his suit. He rested his aching arm back down at his side, smiling slightly as his appearance was finally deemed acceptable.

He offered them all a smile on their way out, it falling from his face the minute the deep oak door thudded shut. He was finally alone, which seemed an increasingly rare occurrence these days. He moved slightly towards his bed, considering just throwing himself onto it. He slowly let out a bated breath, thinking better of damaging the appearance the castle’s servants had worked so hard to create.

Varian let his eyes run aimlessly around the large room, finally allowing them to rest on the mirror standing in the corner. He carefully made his way over to it, frown deepening as he took in the sight painted before him. The suit was grand, his hair was perfect.... but the person he saw standing before him was entirely unknown to him. His gaze widened as his eyes traced up the length of the stiff fabric to his hair.

His hairstripe. They had pinned it back, or more specifically, beneath the other ‘normal’ parts of his hair. The one thing about his appearance he thought no one could change, try as they might to hide it.

Varian’s shoulders lowered, his eyes moving to the ground, noticing nothing as they landed there. He was a fraud. They wanted a prince who would love these customs. Who would stand as tall as they asked him to. Who didn’t need to be hidden beneath layers of delicately crafted lies to be impressive.

He clenched his fists, pushing back the soft tears that nodded at the back of his eyes, unwilling to let them fall. “I’m sorry father,” he whispered to himself, bringing his arms to wrap around his torso. Why couldn’t he just be the strong leader his people deserved? He didn’t even know why he was crying! Over a hairstyle? Over a little annoyance like having to be dressed? The king would shake his head in shame if he could see him like this. And for good reason too, Varian deserved his father’s disapproval. His heart wasn’t in this, and the kingdom, his father, knew it. After all, his words from a few weeks awhile still rang true...

——

Varian coughed slightly, waving away the small cloud of smoke that has resulted from an overheated test tube before him. “Alright,” he spoke to himself, “Lower the temperature... maybe a little less sulphur?” he breathed, hastily scribbling those thoughts into his notebook.

The spark of the flame as a new test tube was rested above it reflected in his eyes as he carefully lifted a cut slice of the metal to add to his experiment. He moved his face back as he released the chemical, mentally crossing his fingers that it wouldn’t trigger an explosion this time; the last thing he needed was the guards he knew lurked just beyond the door to burst in here.

He pumped his fist in the air as the metal easily dissolved, the colour moving to a slightly darker one as it did. “Finally!” He said, excitedly marking the experiment as a success on the long worn paper. He couldn’t contain the smile on his face, eyes sparkling with new ideas to test with his compound with as he moved to his shelf, eyes scanning the labels for what he needed.

The door opened suddenly, the noise startling Varian slightly, pulling him from his plans for a second. “Oh, father,” he said, his smile leaching into his voice. “You wouldn’t believe it! The compound I’ve been trying to crack for weeks, it finally progressed! Turns out all I needed was a little more...” his ramblings were cut off by a raise of the king’s hand.

Varian dropped his hands to his sides at his father’s disinterest, looking up at the older man for what he had to say that was important enough for him to come down to Varian’s lab in the middle of the day. He could count the times his father had had entered there on his hands, despite him spending countless hours there since he had been a small child.

“Son, you’re eighteen now. In a few years you’ll be ready to take the throne.” He began, voice leaving no room for questioning. Something Varian guessed would prove useful as king. “The guard informed me of some... accidents that happened down here.”

Varian opened his mouth to assure his father they were nothing, but was cut off once again by his father’s outstretched hand. “You’re far too reckless, Varian. Don’t you think our people deserve a king who dedicates his time to learning ways to help them rather than silly projects like this?” he said, gesturing slightly to the room before him.

“But that’s the thing, dad! These experiments can help your people! If you would just give me a little more time to...” he said, all excitement ended by his father heavily resting his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. Varian drew his eyes nervously up to meet his father’s stern gaze, fearing the disappointment he knew he would find there.

“I’ve allowed you far too much time out into this already. It’s time for you to grow up; take your future seriously, and our peoples’ future as well. No more distractions.” Quirin finished, turning to make his way back out of the room.

——

Varian remembered the feeling that had clawed at his chest at those words. He hadn’t cried. He knew he didn’t deserve to. What his father said felt like a knife shoved into his side, but he couldn’t debate the truth they wielded.

He remembered falling to the floor, world spinning, as the words slammed through his mind over and over again. His chest had shaken, but no tears came, and for that he had been glad. What his father said had opened a wound he had fought so long to ignore, and one that he hadn’t been able to since.

He would be a terrible king. The people deserved someone who would rule them with fairness and passion. Someone who deserved the life of luxury handed to him. Someone entirely like his father, and just the opposite of him. Yet here he was, sculpted into the image of a perfect prince that he would never have been able to attain on his own. He was a fraud.

A knock sounded at his door, the firm rasp bringing him from his thoughts quickly. “Sir, the guests are waiting on your entrance.” Came an unfamiliar voice from beyond his sight.

Varian quickly scrubbed any remaining fragments of tears from his eyes, “Just a moment,” he said, voice wavering despite his best efforts to steady it. He stole one last glance into the mirror, taking in his red eyes and perfect clothes. “Come on Var, be the king they deserve.”

He strode confidently, or as close of a semblance as he could muster, over towards the edge of his room. He could do this. Despite how much it hurt, he could put aside his passions for his people. He could study hard, work with his father, become worthy of the crown he would soon be handed. One step at a time.

If he repeated those words long enough, maybe they’d somehow come true.

——

Sooner than he would’ve liked, Varian found himself standing before the entrance to the ballroom. He had been here dozens of times before; the elaborate oak doors would be pushed aside, and he would come in at the top of a grand set of stairs at the head of the room.

He knew exactly what to expect, yet he still found himself trying to slow the breaths that always seemed to speed up before events like this. He knew that hundreds of eyes would fall on him alone the second that barrier was removed, it should have gotten easier by now, but perhaps it would be something he’d never adjust to.

Varian allowed himself to shut his eyes for a moment, steeling himself for the night ahead as he heard the announcer introduce him. This was it; too late to run. He forced himself to draw in a deep breath, however hasty it may have been. He was meant to be a model of confidence, reassuring to all in attendance... yeah, right. He just had to get past the entrance.

The doors were pushed aside by men in suits much more simple than the one he wore, and he took a shaky step forward, the light of the party pouring out over his thin frame as he came to the top of the stairs. He opened his eyes, all noise ceasing as the nobility crowding the room turned to face him.

Varian felt his heart begin to quicken, breaths clawing to get out his chest, yet only shallow ones would come. He pulled at the edge of his jacket nervously, forcing his vision to remain steady despite the hundreds of colours blurring indistinguishably together. He could feel the hundreds of eyes rested upon him, boring into him as he stood there.

His mind screamed at him, a mix of fears and rules slamming together in a wave of thoughts that he couldn’t think enough to understand at the moment. He had to do something. He urged himself to take a step forward, towards the crowd, but he found his feet unmoving. His eyes darted around the room at such a speed he couldn’t process anything he was seeing, until finally, they landed on the familiar face of his father towards the edge of the crowd.

Guilt crashed into his chest, knocking any breath that had been held there previously far away from his grasp. Not knowing what else to do, Varian ran.

He turned, ignoring the protests of the doormen, running as fast as his burning legs and aching chest would carry him back down the dark corridor. He ran through the halls at a speed he hadn’t known he was able to, finding himself unable to breathe within the suffocating walls of the palace.

He noticed a large glass door, shoving it out of his way with as much force as he could, relishing in the sudden cool of the night air pressing against his skin.

He took in a deep breath of the air that was far from stuffy, leaning into the rail of the balcony he had stepped on to. His head pounded as he stood there, looking out at the palace grounds below. He looked over to the palace wall; the walls in which he had lived his life, and felt tears come to his eyes much more quickly than they had before.

The hot tears poured down his face, shaking his chest with the silent sobs as they did. His ribs pressed hard against the carved stone. He couldn’t do this. Live this lie that he had convinced himself he was cut out for. He couldn’t pretend he was what the people wanted - needed -, couldn’t force himself to become what his father wanted. He wanted freedom. From the guards, the servants, from the pressure he couldn’t bear any longer.

He rested for a moment, revelling in the still night air surrounding him, gently rustling his still styled hair. He felt his heart rate slow as he stood there, his sobs softening into streams of tears which he didn’t care to control. Varian watched as they dripped onto his hands, gripping the railing as if it were a lifeline.

He heard the door hit lightly against the wall as someone stepped out onto the balcony, no doubt sent to return him to the ball. His blurry gaze remained on his hands as he heard soft footsteps trailing closer to him.

“Evening, your royal highness,” she said lightly, moving to stand next to him, “That was some entrance you made back there.”

“Cassie.” His shoulders released an unknown tension as he realized it was her, rather than some other guard. His frown only deepened however, “Have you ever...” he began, shaking his head to cut himself off. He wasn’t sure he had words to describe what he was feeling anyway.

“Have I ever...?” She prompted, lightly bumping her shoulder against his as she waited for him to speak. Varian would never be able to express his gratitude to her for their friendship. She didn’t treat him as if he were leagues away from her as the other workers in the palace did, and she never pushed him to speak quickly as his father did. She simply let him... exist. Whatever way he wanted to.

“Have you ever felt... trapped?” He said, teary voice breaking on the last word. He watched her pause for a moment at that, and almost regretted saying it. It was dumb, she wasn’t held by pressures the same way he was, he should never have even asked. But he trusted her opinion, and couldn’t bring himself to retract it.

“I did. For a long time. Until you changed that,” she said, glancing towards the star dotted sky hanging high above them. “You fought for my place here. No one would... I was trapped by their expectations of me; of what I should be - not exactly the lady everyone hoped for - and because of that, they thought they knew who I was, what I could do.” She said, breathing out a heavy sigh at that. “You changed all of that. Heck, I’m surprised you didn’t get disowned, stepping out of place like that, demanding the guard give me a shot… I’m not sure how many people see who I really am, but at least one scrawny scientist does.”

She turned to face him at that, a soft smile pulling at her lips as she swiftly pulled the pins out of his hair, blue stripe falling in front of his eyes in one motion.

Varian couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh at that, tight smile on his lips too as he lifted his eyes to finally meet hers. A scientist. He never thought being called something other than what he was could feel so... freeing. His heart leapt at the thought of what could be possible if it were true, if he wasn’t destined to be prince.

That thought didn’t last long though as he saw another set of guards pass by the open door, the harsh light of the hallway spilling out into the night, “Thank you, I’m just- I can’t...” he trailed off, voice breaking as he spoke. He couldn’t do this any longer. Tonight he would leave. Leave the castle, leave this life, everything. For good.

Cass simply squeezed his shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile, “I better get back to the party before they notice I’m missing; take your time coming back,” she said, slowly turning back towards the palace.

“Goodbye, Cassie,” he whispered, and if she faltered slightly at that, Varian didn’t notice.

——

Varian’s vision was blurred, tears trailing down his face. His chest shook slightly, refusing to fully give in to the sobs that threatened to overtake him. The teardrops fell onto his shaking hands as he quickly shoved some clothes into a cloth bag.

This decision was the only one he had ever been sure of. He should feel relieved, he would be passing his duties as prince off to someone who would do them justice, would be able to help the people better than he could ever dream of. But he felt only fear moving through his veins with each slam of his heart against his chest.

He didn't have a plan. Didn't know where to go, what to say. The rational part of his brain told him to wait, to bother thinking this through. But Varian quickly shoved that notion aside. He couldn't stand the pressure the crown pushed against his head for another day. Leaving it behind would be the best for everyone.

He set down the shirt he held in his grasp. “I’m doing the right thing,” he whispered, tears slowing at the words. Not an ounce of him doubted it, which was strange for an over thinker like him. He let his breathing flow back to normal as he paused for a moment. He was finally free of the lie he had worn for so long.

His eyes shot open at the sound of his door handle clicking, Varian furiously rubbing the trails of tears in a desperate vie to make them disappear as he whirled around to face the noise. His heart spiked for a moment as he subconsciously stepped in front of the bag he had been packing, belongings strewn about beside it.

“Where are you going?” Cass said, voice less confused than Varian had expected as she spoke. She gestured to the mess behind him, eyes concerned as they ran over his reddened face.

He shouldn't have been surprised it was her; it was always her. That, and the fact that no one else would dare step into his room without being invited first. He had always been glad that she ignored formalities when everyone else had their gaze turned. It made him feel like he could break free of the string that held him back.

Varian shook his head, quickly jumping back into the conversation at hand. “Cass! Uh- nowhere. Just, y’know, a bit of cleaning!” He motioned to the science supplies set gently on his silk pillow, “Getting rid of this stuff, focusing more, just like dad said!”

He pursed his lips at the way his sentences had all rushed together, words stumbling into each other in a clumsy manner. He glanced up at her, the expression highlighted by her raised brows confirming his suspicions that she had seen right through him. Maybe he had just gotten used to letting her see past his front.

“You’re a horrible liar, hairstripe,” she said, crossing the space between them. The slight smile dropped off her face as she continued, “So that’s what this is about? Your dad?”

He shut his eyes, turning his head away from her. The room fell silent for a long moment, the only sound being Varian’s heartbeat, which overwhelmed his ears the longer he stood.

“I can’t.” His voice cracked at the small truth, tears slowly growing behind his eyelids. “I’m, I’m just not cut out to be king. I’m wrong for this- all of it! I can’t just stay here locked in this… this cage-” His eyes all too quickly flew open as he threw his arm out to the room in front of him, “-until I screw up so badly it can’t be fixed.”

A beat passed as Cass rested her hand on his shoulder gently. “I don't want this life. It isn’t me,” he said, voice lowering into a whisper as he finally dragged his light blue eyes up to meet hers.

She took a step back from him, moving over to cast a glance out the large window across the room. Varian wiped at his eyes once again, the space next to him feeling cold in her absence. His heart skipped as he watched her, hoping she wasn't about to stop his plan before it began. A small part of him nagged he could trust her more than that, but his tired mind couldn't focus on that in the moment.

“The ball’s ending, guards are still posted outside,” she said, carefully pushing the thick red curtain aside as she peered down to the courtyard below. “They’ll be off duty just before dawn, we’ll leave then,” she said definitively, finally moving to face him.

“We?” he asked, mind still racing to piece together her words.

She smiled towards him, “You think I’m going to let you go on this adventure without me?”

Varian’s heart swelled at her words. He allowed himself to breathe in the relief at the prospect of not taking this journey alone for a second, before quickly snapping back into the present. He forcefully shook the thought from his mind, guilt already piling onto him for considering it. “I can’t let you do this, Cassie,” he said, voice too quiet. He let out a shaky breath, “You have a whole life here, you can’t just throw that away.” He cut himself off before the ‘for me” could slip past his lips.

She rolled her eyes at that, the usual commitment behind the action missing. “I’m barely a low ranking guard. Even the new recruits get more responsibilities than me. They only…” she trailed off, eyes shining as she shook her head. She turned her attention to her glove, tugging at the edge of the dark fabric as she gathered her next sentence. “Wherever we end up, I’ll find a guard that lets me earn my place.”

Varian could feel his resolve crumbling as she spoke, guilt dripping away as quickly as it had appeared. She wanted this too. Maybe they were more similar than he had thought before tonight. “But your dad-” he started weakly, digging the toe of his boot into the carpet beneath it.

“-Will be fine,” she finished, “I’ll explain in a note, he’ll be glad I’m chasing my destiny. Besides,” She stepped closer to him, “There’s no rule saying we can’t eventually come back. Who knows where our path’ll lead.”

Varian smiled up at her, this one genuine as it poured into his eyes, moving in the place tears had been not long before. This would be a new beginning. One both of them had been waiting years for.

“Now finish packing. I’ll meet you back here at first light,” she said, taking a step towards the still open door, flickering torch light signalling the way.

“Cassie?” he said, causing her to pause for a breath. “Thank you.” He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, nervous smile still more genuine than he had worn in as long as either of them could remember. Their eyes remained connected for longer than either fully realized, both wordlessly sharing dreams of their new path, glad to have someone to travel it with.

“Any time, your highness.” Her lips wore a soft smile as she slipped back down the hallway.


End file.
